Minor Annoyances
by circas
Summary: For the first time in so long, Peter could feel worry creeping up on him - not just for Derek, but for Stiles as well. ((Hiatus is over!))
1. Chapter 1

For some reason fanfiction isn't saying that I updated this story so I'm just going to put the revised chapter as chapter two.


	2. Chapter 2

The fight with the Alpha pack is still fresh in Peter's mind as if it happened only yesterday - but it's been a month and Peter swears he can still feel the bruises dotted over his skin; under his skin. His hand moves to a shoulder, pressing into skin and tendon and muscle - he sighs at the dulled pain brought from muscle memory.

Both Derek and himself had taken the bulk of the physical damage dealt by the Alpha's - Scott and Isaac and Jackson didn't come without scratch or bruise. But Stiles - Stiles was dealt the worse hand of them all and Derek still beat himself up about it.

It had been a routine meeting, Derek assembled the pack and they discussed tactics and ideas inside the ruins of the Hale home. Peter would stand back because Scott didn't trust him and his influence was bleeding over onto Derek - he was merely there for support. But Peter didn't mind, they all knew he was the oldest and smartest of the lot. They needed Peter, almost as much as he needed them.

After a few hours everyone had went their separate ways; Derek to his Camaro, Stiles to his Jeep and Scott and Isaac to Scott's Ford.

Though a week later when another meeting had been called, the only person absent was Stiles. Derek's heart had been beating so hard and fast that Peter could almost feel its vibrations on the tips of his fingers. Peter had raised an eyebrow at his nephew's sudden distress.

But even Peter knew better than to brush it off as if it were simply a matter of the boy being caught in traffic or something. Peter also knew that Derek wasn't in the best of shape to seek out after Stiles. Rings were circled around his eyes and his posture sunk a little more as the days passed. Peter had put his hands on Derek's shoulders and told him he'd look for Stiles. There was that distrusting glare Derek always tried to pin him with - Peter gave his nephew's shoulders a squeeze and headed to the Camaro.

For only a moment, Peter did hold onto a string of hope and ignorance that perhaps the meeting had slipped Stiles' mind, or maybe he was stuck in traffic.

Another week had trudged by and Stiles was nowhere to be found. This made Derek short with the rest of the pack, including Peter. Derek's eyes would flash red every now and again when Peter looked to him - disappointment threaded through his glare.

And then before they knew it; before they were fully ready, the Alpha pack made their move.

It was easily seen that Derek's mind wasn't in the right place with Stiles still missing. For the first time in a long time, Peter could feel worry creeping up on him - not just for his nephew, but for Stiles as well.

The fight itself didn't go beyond the night; Peter was surprised how the odds had shifted in sight of their favor. Though, it was a hollow victory; the Alpha pack had been defeated, but Stiles was nowhere to be found.

That is, until Peter's ears had perked at a faint thump of a heartbeat. With a hand on his left set of ribs and a furrow to his brow at the pain, Peter followed the thump and stopped dead in his tracks.

Stiles had flinched at the sight of Peter walking into the small room. He was sitting with his back against the steel wall with his hands chained together above his head. The collar of his shirt had been pulled out of place - Peter could make out constriction marks on his neck. Bruised, swollen skin and dried blood covered nearly every area of exposed skin on the boy. His eyes were barely open and his lips moved to say his name, "Peter."

It was only a rush of breath, but Peter understood all the same.

Peter still isn't sure why he didn't call anyone else into the room to help him with Stiles. It had been as if his mind was zeroed in on the boy, and nothing else mattered.

He had cracked open the shackles on Stiles' wrist and winced at the pain in his ribcage as he hoisted Stiles into his arms. His limbs fell almost lifelessly to his side and his head lulled backwards.

Derek's heart almost halted when he saw Peter walk towards the rest of the pack with Stiles' limp body in his grasp. Derek couldn't speak, he was reduced to shaking his head and mouthing 'no' over and over. But once Peter got close enough, Peter could almost feel the relief sink into Derek at the sound of Stiles beating heart.

Peter gets to his feet and shrugs on a black jacket lying on the back of his couch. He grabs his keys and heads to his car, fidgeting with the cuff of the sleeve all the while.

Stiles broke out of his coma today, and Peter is going to see him.


End file.
